


Smile

by Castiel_For_King



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Castiel is not ok, Destiel - Freeform, M/M, schmoop in the rain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-30
Updated: 2016-04-30
Packaged: 2018-06-05 10:02:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6700477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Castiel_For_King/pseuds/Castiel_For_King
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas comes up with a plan to weaken Amara.  Dean doesn't like it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Smile

“…you might be able to harness my grace when it surges,” Castiel told them all, looking more confident with his idea by the second.  “The flare will be massive and powerful; it might be enough to at least weaken her.”

They were out of options and out of material to research.

And they didn’t know what to do.

But they weren’t fucking going to do what Cas had just suggested, Dean knew that much.

By the end of the angel’s half hearted idea, Dean was sitting up rigid in his chair with something colder than just dread swelling in his gut.

“Cas, tell me you’re fuckin’ joking.”

Around the table, the meager army they had managed to scrape together shifted uneasily at whatever it was they heard in Dean’s voice.

Castiel didn’t even bother lifting his eyes to deliver his deadpanned stare.  “Why would you think I’m joking?” 

Cesar and Jessy sat side by side across the table from Dean, leaning in to each other while their eyes darted between Dean and Cas and the tension mounted.

Garth was at the far end, by himself, his long skinny legs propped up, giving the illusion of ease even though his posture was stiff and anxious.

Beside him, Sam had his elbows resting on the table top and his head in his hands, rubbing at his eyes like that would somehow replace the sleep he desperately needed.

At the other end of the table, Cas was standing with his palms flat on the polished surface with his gaze down like he was looking over the map, but his eyes weren’t moving.  Though it was painfully obvious that the angel had lost his will to fight, he still looked every bit the Commander trying to find the energy to rally his disheartened troops.

“Because you literally just stood there and said we should fucking _kill_ you so that we can use your grace while you’re _dying_ in the off chance it _might_ weaken Amara!  You _have_ to be joking.”

Dean couldn’t believe he even had to say it out loud.  Was Cas that dense?  Did he really not see how terribly, horrifically fucked up his idea was?  When he glanced over at Sam for some kind of backup – some kind of reassurance that he was, in fact, very much in the right here – Sam had his gaze fixed firmly on Cas, eyes wide and sad, his expression suggesting he’d only just realised how far Castiel might have fallen for them.

With a heavy and put-upon sigh, Castiel sank into his own chair and rested his chin in the palm of his hand, almost looking bored.

“It is the best plan we’ve had in weeks.”

“No, it _isn’t_ ,” Dean nearly snarled, making himself stay put instead of getting up to grab Cas by the front of his sensible suit jacket and shake some _actual_ sense into him.

“Why not?”  Castiel sighed again, looking mildly annoyed now.  “At worst nothing happens, at best you may weaken Amara enough to kill her – “

“Because you’d have to _die_ for it to work, Cas!”  he finally exploded.  He stared at the angel, half expecting him to start laughing and say _gotcha!_ His heart was hammering its way into his throat and a dark cloud of understanding was drifting closer to the edges of Dean’s mind like a storm he’d been trying to ignore.

Something had been off about Cas for a long time – ever since they’d gotten Rowena to lift her curse from him, he hadn’t been right. 

Castiel finally lifted his gaze off the table, his blue eyes dull, and shrugged one broad shoulder.

“So?”

Something in Dean’s chest cracked, threatening to shatter like brittle glass, and he fell back into his chair, rubbing his shaking fingers over his lips to hide how they trembled.

“Cas…” Sam started softly, but then looked down and rubbed a hand down his face.

Garth, Cesar and Jessy didn’t know Cas all that well, but they knew him well enough to look concerned.  Garth looked horrified, his big eyes shining while he stared unashamedly at Castiel. 

Cesar and Jessy stared only at Dean with heavy expressions and a palpable sympathy hanging in the air between them.

Dean had to get the situation under control and he had to do it _now_.  Not only for his own sake, but for everyone else as well.  He stood carefully, wincing when it felt like a shard of ice was being driven through his chest, and made sure is voice wouldn’t shake before he spoke.

“Ok, I think it’s time everyone took a load off.  Sam, go get some sleep,” he ordered gently but firmly.

Sam merely nodded, looking exhausted and troubled.  With a last, worried glance at Castiel, Sam shuffled out of the room.

“You guys…” he made a vague gesture at Cesar, Jessy and Garth that meant nothing, “Watch a movie or play monopoly or something.  Just go try and do something fun, you’re sad-facing all the time is bumming me out.”  He turned to Cas and swallowed.  “You and me are going for a drive.”

 

* * *

 

The world outside the bunker was overcast and a steady pattering of rain tapped along the roof of the car as they drove.

Just being in the Impala was enough to calm Dean down a little.  The way she roared down the rain slicked road was like a mirror and an outlet for his own desire to scream and roar, he wanted to roll down the window and bellow his frustration into the troubled sky, but letting Baby do it for him was almost more satisfying.

Beside him, Castiel gave off the feeling that _he_ was the eye of a storm; so calm – so fucking calm even though Dean felt like he was falling apart.  So uncaring of what he’d just said; so unconcerned with whether he lived or died that he spoke of throwing his own life away like it was worth nothing at all to anyone.

Dean’s knuckles were turning white and he loosened his grip on the steering wheel.

They’d been driving for less than twenty minutes when Castiel spoke up, sounding hesitant and unsure in a way that made Dean swallow around the tightness in his throat.

“I’ve done something to upset you.”

Dean’s frustration ripped out of him in a sigh.  The fact that Cas didn’t even understand _why_ there was something profoundly wrong with suggesting he kill himself in the off chance it might be useful felt like a rusty nail through his heart.

“Yeah, Cas,” he managed to squeeze out.  “Yeah, I’m fucking upset.”

He could _see_ Cas curling in on himself, leaning against the door and away from Dean.  Like he was scared he was about to be hit or like he though Dean might pull over and shove him out of the car.

“I’m sorry.”

“No, Cas –“ Dean bit his tongue when his voice shook.  He needed to calm down.  He needed to explain to Cas that it wasn’t normal to not care if you lived or died.  It wasn’t ok that he would so readily give his own life for nothing.

Dean slowed and pulled off the road and onto a rough, two track dirt road that he knew led to an open field.  By now he had amassed a handful of places the he could go and think when he needed to get away.  This one was the closest and the nicest.

In his peripheral vision he could see Cas’ head swinging this way and that; could see how he reached up to grip the seatbelt over his chest; could practically feel the sudden nervousness rolling off the angel in waves and Dean felt his stomach roll, quite sure he knew what it was Cas was thinking.

“It’s ok, Cas,” he promised.  “We’ll go home in a bit.  I just want to talk.”

As soon as he confirmed they _would_ go home, Cas immediately relaxed and Dean had to blink away the sting in his eyes.  Cas really _had_ been worried Dean was just going to abandon him.

 _Why wouldn’t he be?_   Dean viciously demanded of himself.  _You did it before_.

He felt sick.

When the two dirt tracks disappeared into long grass, Dean rolled to a stop and cut the engine.  The rain pattered away on the roof and outside the windows the grass and trees were deep green with water and the sky was heavy and dark with bloated clouds.  When he cracked his window to keep fog from forming inside the glass, the smell of damp earth and rain water wafted through the crack.

It smelled a little like Cas, Dean suddenly realised.  The angel had always had a unique and calming scent that Dean could never really place.  But now he realized what it was.  Cas smelled like a rain storm.

“What do you want to talk about?”  Castiel asked him, his voice rumbling like thunder.

For a moment Dean shrank under the task before him.  Cas was powerful and cosmic and ancient…but he had been cut to his knees by these human emotions.  What was more, he didn’t even seem to realize anything was wrong.

“Cas…” Dean cleared his throat, took a deep breath, and tried again with a steadier voice.  “Cas, what you said back at the bunker scared me.”

He realized how true it was once he said it out loud.  That’s what the root of the problem was here.  Cas would drive his angel blade through his own chest without flinching and it was fucking terrifying in a way Dean had never quite experienced before.

“I don’t…” he looked over to see Cas biting his lip, frowning out through the window like he was trying to solve a complicated math problem.  “I don’t understand.”

“I know,” Dean told him softly, and the words twisted like a knife in his chest.  “I know you don’t understand, Cas, and that’s part of the problem.  You don’t understand that it’s not ok how little you care about yourself.  You don’t understand that you’re not alright.” He took a deep breath, “You don’t understand that you dying would kill me too.”  He stared straight ahead and focused on a rivulet of water running down the windshield.  “I wouldn’t get over that, Cas.  Not ever.”

When he chanced a glance over, Cas looked upset and overwhelmed, staring down at his hands.

“You need help,” Dean told him gently.  “And I don’t know what to do, Cas, because you deserve…you deserve someone who knows what they’re doing.  You deserve someone that doesn’t fix problems with duct tape and whiskey and it kills me that I can’t give that to you.”

“We don’t have time for…I don’t need…”  Cas started and stopped, his thoughts obviously jumbled, and Dean reached out instinctively, wrapped his fingers around Cas’ arm to stop him fidgeting.

“Cas, hey,” he said gently, but Cas was already pulling the handle and shouldering the door open.  “Cas -”

Dean scrambled out of the car, but Cas still had a hand on the door and was taking deep breaths through his nose, eyes closed like he was trying hard to keep control of whatever was going on in his head.

Around them, the drizzling rain tapped on the leaves of the trees and made them dance and the occasional fat drop pinged hollowly off the Impala.  In the distance, miles away, thunder rolled in a sluggish grumble.

Dean slowly made his way around the front of the car and came to stand beside Cas, glad to see he at least seemed more calm after a few breaths of fresh air.

“Cas –“

“Dean, I’m fine.”  The snap wasn’t in his words but it was definitely in the sharpness of his gaze.  Cas turned to face him fully, a sudden, fierce mask doing a good job of covering the fear in his blue eyes.  “It is _you_ who does not understand, Dean.  I am an _angel_.  We are created, we fight, we die.  That _is_ our purpose.  I _am_ a weapon.  I was created with the intent of serving a utilitarian purpose.  I am not a _person_ , I do not have a soul, I am not permitted to _feel_ –“

“ _Stop_ ,” Dean tried order but it sounded more like he was begging.  He grabbed both of Cas’ shoulders and squeezed hard.  “Cas, _please_ stop.  You know you’re more than that, you _have_ to.  You’re an angel, sure, but you’re human too, aren’t you.  I know you feel and I know that scares you sometimes and that’s ok.  But you have to get it out of your head that you’re only what you can do for others.”  He moved one of his hands to the side of Cas’ face when his blue eyes looked away, used his thumb to push under Cas’ chin and raise his eyes again.  “Cas you are _so much more_ than that.  You’re my friend.  You’re Sam’s friend.  He loves you and he’d be devastated if you died.  Didn’t you even notice how upset he was back at the bunker?”  Cas looked stunned and shook his head a little.  “He was almost in tears, man.  He thinks of you as a little brother, you know?  He loves explaining shit to you, like how to use the microwave and he spends way too much money buying you expensive teas to try.” Dean smiled with relief when that got the corner of Cas’ mouth to twitch.  “And Garth never shuts up about how awesome he thinks you are.  I’m pretty sure you could tell him about the inner circle politics of heaven and he’d be hanging off every word.  And Jessy and Cesar really respect you and like hanging out with you cause you don’t try to hug them all the time like Garth does and you tell them cool stories about all the wars you fought in.  Their words, not mine.”

Dean allowed himself a moment to sweep the pad of his thumb over one sharp cheekbone.

“And I…I don’t know what I’d do if you left me, Cas,” he mumbled, staring at the dew on Cas’ skin rather than looking into those heavy blue eyes.  “It hurts, knowing how much _you’re_ hurting.  I want to help you so bad but I don’t know how.  I want you to feel better.  I want you to care about yourself.  I want to see you smiling all the time and I want to be the one that makes you do it.”

Cas pressed into his hand and closed his eyes, his eyebrows pulling together in a troubled frown.

“Dean…”

Dean brought his other hand to the side of Cas’ face and waited until Cas opened his eyes again before firmly saying, “There is nothing worth you dying.  _Nothing_ , you understand?”

Cas nodded hesitantly and Dean used his thumb to brush a few drops of rain water off his lips.

There never seemed to be a right time for them and Dean felt another opportunity slipping through his fingers as he pulled away.  He knew Cas was in a vulnerable state of mind and, despite his urge to wrap Cas up in his arms and kiss away all his problems, Dean knew that now – as it always seemed to be – was not the time.

“Can…can we go home now?”  Cas asked him.

But he was only human, Dean told himself when he leaned in and pressed his lips to Cas’ forehead.  His skin was cool and damp with the humidity in the air.

“Sure thing, angel.”

He pulled back, let his hands slide away from Cas’ face, but Cas’ long fingers snaked around his wrist and Dean froze, looking down into wide blue eyes.

Before he even realized what was happening, Cas pressed close and then closer, their hands trapped between them, and pressed his lips to Dean’s.  It was soft and tasted like rain water and Dean reached up to curl his hand around the back of Cas neck with the thought of keeping him this close forever.

Suddenly the time was perfect and Dean felt the tight knot that had been in his chest for the last few months finally loosen and he sagged with the sudden relief of it.  He kissed Castiel fiercely, hoping against everything that it would tell Cas all the things he’d hadn’t said out loud yet.

Cas’ fingers were curling in the front of his shirt now and Dean finally pulled away when his head started swimming.

“ _You_ make me happy, Dean,” Castiel told him, a little breathlessly.  “And I do not like that I have been hurting you unintentionally.”

“Cas, you’re allowed to feel,” he reiterated.  “And it’s never _not_ gonna hurt when I know you’re not ok.  But you can always, _always_ come to me when you’re not feeling good and - I can’t promise I can fix it -but I can at least make sure you don’t have to go through it alone anymore.”

Cas seemed to take a moment to contemplate Dean’s words and, after a moment, a shy and ridiculously cute little smile stretched Cas’ full lips.  Dean felt himself grinning in response, because, above all, _this_ is what he wanted – to see Cas smiling.  To see him _happy_.

“Would it be alright if I came to you even when I’m not sad?”

“Angel, I don’t care if you’re happy, sad, pissed off or just bored, you can always come to me and I’ll always try to make you smile.”

Cas was grinning, wide enough now to show his straight white teeth, and his eyes were as clear and blue as the rain still falling around them.  He leaned his head down slowly.

“Oh, did I do that?”  he breathed against Cas’ smiling lips.

Dean felt his heart soar up into the stratosphere when Cas practically _giggled_ before closing the half an inch between them and reaching up to hold Dean’s face in his hands.

Dean pulled away just enough to take a breath – ‘cause the time felt kinda right, now.

“I think I love you, Cas.”

Thunder rumbled far off to the west and Cas blinked up at him with wide eyes and parted, reddened lips.

“Think you’re it for me.”

He didn’t _think_ it was true, he _knew_ it was.  He’d thought it would be terrifying, saying it out loud, but it was more terrifying to imagine Cas _never_ hearing him say it; to imagine Cas never _knowing_.  That – _that_ – was terrifying.

He reached up to brush a damp curl of hair off Cas’ forehead.  “I love you, Cas,” he repeated with certainty.  He wanted there to be no doubt in the angel’s mind.  Not about this.

But Cas was beaming up at him like the sun breaking through the storm clouds.

“I love you too, Dean.”  Cas smiled then, the soft shy smile that made Dean’s hear summersault in his chest.  “Let’s go home.”

“If that’s what makes you smile, angel, then that’s what we’ll do.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Please, please, please review. Feedback means a lot to us authors!  
> This is the first thing I've posted in like a month I feel like my writing skills have atrophied...


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